


First Christmas

by indigo (indigo_angels)



Series: Mission Arc [4]
Category: The A-Team (2010), The A-Team - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 20:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17270786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigo_angels/pseuds/indigo
Summary: Set in the same year as First Blood, Hannibal invites Face home for a Christmas with the Smith clan...





	First Christmas

Face adjusted his messenger bag so it hung straight across his body despite the twenty five layers he felt he was wearing underneath.

 

It had been a mild 60 degrees when he’d left LA, sunny as well, and now here he was, hadn’t even left the airport in Seattle and he was freezing. It wasn’t snowing outside, but he’d seen great swathes of white covered landscape once they cut through the clouds for landing and the mere sight of them had chilled him to the bone.

 

His carry-on was empty now, stuffed as it had been with the cold weather clothes he’d had to buy from obscure shops back in LA, but he had more in his case, he just hoped that he wouldn’t actually freeze to death standing at the carousel waiting for his bag to come around.

 

_____________________

 

Hannibal glared at Adam as he climbed out of the car into the frigid afternoon air.

 

“No,” he said pointedly. “You’re not coming.”

 

Adam however just smiled innocently at Hannibal and made a show of rubbing his hands together. “You gonna make me wait in the car, Johnny? That’s harsh…”

 

Hannibal sighed. “I never wanted you to come in the first place,” he explained patiently. “You think I’m gonna let you come in and scare the poor kid to death as soon as he steps off his flight?” he shook his head, “you’re crazier than I ever thought.”

 

“My car, my rules, little bro!”

 

“I’d have taken a rental if I’d known. You’re not coming in, so get back in the car.”

 

Hannibal was serious, deadly serious, and Adam, brilliant lawyer that he was, could sense it. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, sliding back in behind the wheel. “No need to go all Ranger on me.” He tugged his hat further down over his forehead. “But if I die of the cold, make sure you tell Gabi it was all your fault.”

 

Ignoring him, Hannibal just slammed his own car door and stalked off towards the terminal.

 

__________________________

 

Face paced the still carousel and tried to find a mirror where he could check his reflection. It was crazy, Hannibal had seen him covered in blood and pond slime, in borrowed clothes too big for him and naked and throwing up into the toilet. They’d shared every single embarrassing situation known to man and seen each other at their very worst, but all Face could concentrate on right now was whether his hair was flat in one side from where he’d fallen asleep on the way up. He bent down in front of a shiny chrome can and plucked at his artfully tousled curls, only just managing to jump out of the way when a half full cup of Coke splashed into the trash right in front of him. He glared at the pierced teenager who’d thrown it but then whirled around as the siren announced the imminent starting of the carousel.

 

__________________________

 

An hour’s drive out of Seattle, Rose Smith was in her kitchen, rolling out pastry for mince pies, whilst keeping a careful eye on the time.

 

“He’ll have landed by now,” she remarked easily. “As long as his flight was on time.”

 

“Hmm,” her husband of over forty years, Mal, looked up from the crossword he was doing in the newspaper. “With a bit of luck it might have been cancelled completely and then we won’t have him here ruining Christmas.”

 

“Mal!” Rose put down her pastry cutter. “What have I told you about that? John is almost forty years old and this is the first person he has _ever_ brought home for Christmas. Doesn’t that tell you anything about how important this is to him?”

 

Mal shook his head and looked back again. “I just don’t understand it, that’s all. He could have any woman he wanted, what’s he want to pick up some limp-wristed kid for?”

 

“He doesn’t want a woman,” Rose replied as she flattened the unfortunate pasty with vigour. “He wants Templeton, who, I might remind you, is a Ranger, and only as ‘limp-wristed’ as your own son!”

 

“What kind of name is ‘Templeton’ anyway? Josie says it’s a rat in one of her books, doesn’t that tell you anything?”

 

Rose stopped her murdering of the pastry and instead pointed her rolling pin her husband’s way. “This holiday is important to me because it’s important to John and Templeton. You say _anything_ to upset either one of them and you will be spending it round at your brother’s, do you understand me, Malcolm Smith?”

 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mal held his hands up in defeat. “I have every intention of being nothing but the perfect host to my son and his gay boyfriend, you see if I don’t.”

 

Rose sighed and tried to peel her pastry off the work top, choosing not to remind her husband that their son had been homosexual long before his ‘gay boyfriend’ was even born…

 

_______________________

 

For the seventeenth time, Face adjusted his parker as he shuffled slowly in the line of people exiting the arrivals area. He’d taken the time to pull an extra sweater from his case, and a thermal beanie when he decided his hair was beyond saving, but he was still cold, unable to feel his feet as he edged onwards.

 

Cold feet, he mulled, how appropriate.

 

That icy wave of dread washed through him once more as he thought of what he’d signed up for here. Christmas with Hannibal’s huge family; was he insane? He’d never had a family Christmas before, well, not one that he could remember anyway and he knew he’d have no idea what to do or say or how to act or what polite small talk to make… Hannibal had told him not to bother with presents, but on pushing had admitted that everyone would have something for Face. So Face had spent the last week in LA going through the list of relatives, their names and ages that he’d made Hannibal give him, and buying something for each and every one of them, right down to baby Daisy, three months old and never even seen by Hannibal himself.

 

Father David had looked over every one of his choices and assured him they were all perfect, but he wasn’t sure and it was just one more thing to be nervous of.

 

The presents may well be a big deal, but the thing so terrifying he even tried not to think about it, was what Hannibal’s parents would think of him. Hannibal had told him not to worry about it all, that they would love him because Hannibal loved him and as much as that had made him feel all weak and wobbly to be reminded that Hannibal did, incredibly, love him, it didn’t help his nerves in the slightest.

 

Hannibal had asked him what was making him so nervous, how could he tell him is was just the cold, hard facts of the situation? Face was half Hannibal’s age, a subordinate and had little in the way of qualifications. He was pretty poor (especially after buying his flight to Seattle and all those presents), an orphan, a _foundling_ child at that – and of course he was male. When Rose and Malcolm Smith had made plans for their youngest child back when he was a chubby cheeked and bow legged toddler, Face very, _very_ , much doubted he would have been what they had wanted. His stomach churned unpleasantly once more as the doorway came closer still.

 

_____________________

 

Hannibal had been standing, stock still, his eyes on the doorway from the arrivals hall all the time, so he had spotted Face the second he’d trailed uncertainly though the sliding doors. His heart flipped like it always did and he wondered, for about the millionth time in the last year, what he had done in his life to make him so blessed that Face had fallen in love with him. 

 

He watched him now, smiling a little at his usually so-cocky boy, scanning the assembled faces anxiously, a carry on in front of him, a _huge_ case behind, a beanie pulled down low over his brow, little tufts of hair poking out in an endearing manner, the messenger bag over his chest making him look even younger than his twenty years. He was adorable.

 

Just at that moment, Face took a step to one side, his expression creased in worry and he took out his new mobile phone, putting it away once more when he realised he had no missed calls. Hannibal had already been headed Face’s way, but now he walked even faster, realising that his ultra-sensitive boy had already persuaded himself that Hannibal wasn’t coming to pick him up. Face was swaying anxiously on the spot, his back to Hannibal and then, just as the older man approached him, he seemed to sense it, turning and smiling, blushing a little even as Hannibal stepped forward and pulled him into a huge hug.

 

“Happy Christmas Eve, baby.”

 

He squeezed a little harder and chuckled to himself, wondering if Face was currently wearing _all_ of his clothes.

 

________________________

 

Gabrielle frowned as she snatched the photograph from her younger cousin’s fingers. “But he’s _gorgeous_ ,” she whispered staring at the photo of Face in his BDUs that Hannibal had brought to show his family. “Are you _sure_ he’s gay?”

 

“He is,” her aunt confirmed, taking the picture herself, “and even if he weren’t, he’s with Uncle John, so it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

 

“I guess it would matter to your brother, Barbara,” Gabi’s uncle, Derrick, muttered from his chair next to the fireplace.

 

“Let me see again,” Josie snatched the picture back. “I don’t know… He’s too old for you Gabi, anyway.”

 

“He’s only four years older than me!” Gabi squeaked indignantly, “I can date boys four years older than me!”

 

Derrick raised an eyebrow. “You just try it, young lady,” he quipped, “I’d love to see your dad’s face…”

 

_______________________  

 

Hannibal had sat in the back with Face as they drove through the outskirts of Seattle on towards the home that Hannibal had grown up in. Face had been surprised, but secretly more than a little relieved, he hadn’t anticipated having Hannibal’s brother waiting for them at the car, hadn’t missed the way his eyes had looked him up and down, the over-firm handshake that Face had made sure to return, the frequent looks that kept being flicked his way in the rear view.

 

It was a test, all of this and one that Face was terrified of failing. The hand currently wrapped tightly around his as Hannibal and Adam told him of the sights they were passing, could well be the only thing that would stop him from slipping under in all this stress and just drowning…

 

__________________

 

Adam hadn’t expected anything he’d got from John and his ‘boyfriend’. It was odd; still, to think of his younger brother as gay at all.

 

When they’d been growing up together, he and John and Barbara, if his parents had been told then that one of their children would grow up gay, he knew damn well that he would have been the one all the money went on.

 

John had just been so… _boyish_ ; climbing trees, breaking bones, hunting with their dad, fishing, fighting… and then so _manly_ ; the Army, the Rangers. They were almost the same height the two of them but John filled his frame in a way that Adam knew he’d never, ever be able to, no matter what he bought off the Shopping Channel.

 

So when he’d heard his macho, highly decorated brother had come out and announced he was gay, and not only that he had a twenty year old boyfriend… well, in truth he had been expecting something a little more… camp.

 

Camp was not the word you would use to describe them though, either of them. Templeton himself must be at least six foot tall with a grip that almost broke three of Adam’s fingers. Their mom had said she’d known for years that her youngest son was gay, he might never have told her, but she’d just known. Adam had thought she was crazy, how could anyone look like John, sound like John, act like John and still be homosexual? Well, his eyes flicked back to the mirror to check their guest out once more; there was the proof, multiplied by two. No wonder no one knew about them back in the Rangers.

 

And more to the point, John looked happy with the way his life had spun for him, he was looking at his younger partner with such adoration in his eyes, had been so quietly excited about him arriving that Adam was uncharacteristically jealous. He’d never been jealous of John before and doubted that John had ever been jealous of him, they were simply too different and got along entirely better for it. But now… Adam’s own wife had left him five years ago for a man who _didn’t_ spend every minute of his waking life at his downtown office. Fortunately, she’d gone off globetrotting with her new beau, so Adam had been left with a ten year old daughter to bring up on his own. At first he’d been terrified, but soon he and Gabrielle had worked themselves into a nice little routine and he realised that it was actually the very best thing that had ever happened to him.   

 

And now he had a new baby with his own much younger partner, Debbie, and while he loved Daisy with all his heart and was fond enough of Debbie (who was certainly good in bed), he was pretty sure he’d never looked at her, looked at _anyone_ , the way that John and Templeton looked at each other.

 

___________________________

 

 

Gabrielle and Josie sat in the upstairs window frame watching the arrivals for their Grandparents’ Christmas Eve party. This was a tradition that they had been following for years, ever since Josie had been old enough to be allowed upstairs on her own, but this year, Gabi had considered staying down with the grown-ups, now she was almost grown up herself of course.

 

But Josie’s face had fallen and so she’d relented, ditching Josie’s brother Caleb in the kitchen and avoiding the cooing noises being made in Daisy’s direction as they scuttled upstairs to their usual perch to watch the presents arriving.

 

“Daisy’s very sweet,” Josie interrupted her thoughts with a loud whisper and Gabi shrugged.

 

“I guess.”

 

“You don’t like her?” the green eyes watching from their hidey hold behind the curtains were shrewd like no other eleven year old that Gabi had ever seen.

 

Gabi shrugged again. “She’d just a baby, you know? How much fuss can people make over one baby?”

 

Fortunately, Josie decided to drop it. “I guess Uncle John’s boyfriend is cuter then?”

 

Gabi laughed. “Oh yes.”

 

“Cuter than Jason Priestly?” a wrinkled nose was Josie’s only answer to that as another car pulled into the driveway. “That’s your dad’s car…” Josie supplied helpfully.

 

They slid into silence once more as the car pulled to a stop, its engine idling and both rear doors opened. Two silhouettes climbed out, long limbed and graceful, Uncle John’s bulk clear even in the darkness, then they vanished behind the car as the trunk was popped. The two girls sat in rapt silence until finally the car drove off again, going to park, they knew, in the covered garage around the back.

 

The two men were left alone on the driveway, and the girls sat stock still, hidden in darkness as they watched. The slightly smaller of the two, who they knew much be Templeton, was fiddling with his bag strap, adjusting it over and over across his chest until Uncle John stepped in, taking his hands away, smoothing the strap himself and then, finally, stepping in to press a long, lingering kiss to his lips.

 

Gabi felt her inside squirm with a strange heat, even as she heard Josie’s gasp across from her. “I’ve never seen two men kiss before!” Josie breathed. “Have you?”

 

“Yeah…” Gabi cleared her throat and shuffled awkwardly, “loads of times, you know?” In reality though, she couldn’t wait to call Ashley later on and tell her.

 

The moment passed, the kiss broke off and then, the two men made their way across the cobbled driveway to the sparkling front door, pulling a carry-on and a case behind them. Just at the very last second, just as Josie was already squirming out from behind the curtains to go and watch from the stairs, Gabi saw her Uncle John glance up and do a quick double take at their position with a smile on his face. For a split second their eyes met and a hand was lifted in greeting her way, and then they were gone and Gabi was left in the dark and the cold, wondering if she would ever get to feel what John and Templeton so obviously felt for each other.

 

________________________________

 

Malcom was in the back, stoking up the fire pit, when he heard Adam putting his car into the garage and knew that this was the moment when he finally had to meet this issue head on and accept that his youngest son was gay.

 

He poked at the glowing embers, levelling the base out for the new logs and couldn’t shake the sadness that gripped his heart. He loved John with all his heart, he loved all three of his children, Barbara, always so organised and efficient, looking after her younger brothers even when she was barely knee-high herself, Adam, pedantic and steady, cautious and safe, and John… John had been the one that reminded him more of himself, that love of being outdoors, the joy of being alive, they’d had many, many fun weekends together, just the two of them when John’d been growing up. Somehow, finding out that he was gay, had always been gay as Rose tried to tell him, had been a blow he wasn’t expecting, had made him wonder if he even knew his own son, his secretly _favourite_ son, at all.

 

The John who had come back this time for Christmas, after that first awkward call in the summer, Mal had to admit was actually, the exact same John they’d always known and loved. He’d sat up a lot at night, long after everyone else had gone to bed, and wondered how that could be, how he could be the same and so different at the same time. Rose had laughed at him, told him he was crazy and that John was the same because he’d always been like this, always been gay even before he himself had known. Mal hadn’t liked that, hadn’t understood it, how had she even known so far back? And if she’d known, why hadn’t she done anything about it?

 

He heard the greetings in the hallway and stayed back, not wanting to go out there and see the man who had ‘turned’ his son. He could imagine him already, had glimpsed at the photo that the women were cooing over earlier, could see his effeminate ways, hear his girly voice and found himself wondering how the hell he’d managed to get into the Army with all that. He shook his head. Maybe this was a phase; maybe John would grow out of it all once his toy-boy moved on. But then… it was true what Rose had said, John was almost forty years old, too old to grow up and move on.

 

Footsteps behind alerted him to the end of his solitude, and he straightened up, fixed smile in place to greet this interloper to his family, but was surprised to only find John standing there. His eyes flicked to the French doors leading out from the dining room and then back again and his heart lightened, wondering if he’d decided not to come and force his way into a family Christmas after all.

 

“Here, Dad,” Hannibal held out a bottle of beer and Mal accepted it gratefully, Rose usually didn’t let them drink out of bottles when they had company.

 

“Thanks,” Mal took a long swallow. “He not coming then? Sorry, about that but it may be for the best, son.”

 

Hannibal smiled slightly. “No, he’s here, Babs is just showing him off to everyone,” and Malcolm flushed.

 

“Oh, God, John… I’m sorry…”

 

“No – it’s fine, it’s fine.” Mal went back to poking at the fire and Hannibal stepped closer. “I know this is hard for you, Dad.”

 

There was silence on the patio as Hannibal and his father worked together in a well-practised companiable silence to load up the pit and stoke the flames to a toasty height. Eventually though, there was nothing else to do and Mal could ignore the silence no longer. “I just want you to be happy…” he insisted quietly.

 

They were in a recess built specifically into the decking to try and keep the fire pit out of the teeth of the wind and make a cosy nest for those sitting around it, and Hannibal perched on the wooden edge, his feet inside, knees against a cushion as he regarded his dad over the neck of his bottle. “I know you do,” he conceded. “But with a wife, not a _partner_.”

 

Malcolm smiled, wryly. “Your mom doesn’t think this is just a phase you’re going through.”

 

Hannibal spluttered. “I’m a bit old for teenage angst!”

 

“But he’s not,” Mal met his son’s eyes. “I _do_ want you happy and I _don’t_ want you hurt. Can’t you see how he just isn’t the right person for you?”

 

Only someone who knew Hannibal, very, very well would have been able to pick up on the edges of anger that were simmering around his eyes, Mal was just beginning to wonder if they were there at all when they were gone again and Hannibal stood up. “I’m just asking you to give him a chance, dad, that’s all,” he said firmly. “Don’t decide you hate him before he’s even taken his coat off, okay?”

 

He walked off then and Mal watched him go, hating the way that this gulf between them just seemed to be getting bigger and bigger.

 

_________________________

 

Face’s eyes were wide as Hannibal’s sister Barbara almost forcibly dragged him from person to person in the large lounge of her parent’s house. He knew the names of those who should have been there, but the whole thing was a bit much for him, faces and relations and occupations and nicknames being flung at him at a rate of knots. It was a strange experience indeed; he was the details man, he thrived on knowing all there was about anyone and everyone but this… too much, too soon, too fast.

 

A glass of something warm and red had been pushed in to his hand at some point and he took a huge swallow now, resisting, again, any attempts at getting him to lose a layer of clothing. He was sure that he would start to thaw out any minute and when he did it would be a welcome relief. The red drink buzzed happily inside him, reminding him he’d been far too nervous to eat anything at all since he’d risen with the dawn in LA. It was too soothing to concern him though and he swallowed again, feeling the warmth spread rapidly inside him.

 

All too soon the glass was gone though, just as he was about to drain the last inch, and instead he found himself with an armful of smiling baby. For a second he just stared as Daisy’s smile wavered and she looked solemnly back at him but then all his latent memories kicked in, he hadn’t grown up in an orphanage for nothing, and he bounced her up and down a little, smiling widely as he made nonsensical noises at her. Daisy, just like most of the female population of the house, instantly fell under his spell and giggled, bring a whole chorus of ‘Aahs’  gushing around the room. At last Face began to relax just a little as he hoped the the rest of Hannibal’s family would be as easy to win over as little Daisy had been.

 

__________________________

 

Hannibal had been on his way to retrieve Face and take him up to their room for a break and a breather, but he’d frozen in the doorway to the lounge once he’d spied him there, still in all his layers bouncing a giggling Daisy up and down in his arms.

 

Something hit Hannibal in the chest then, as hard and powerful as a fist and he found he couldn’t move, could only stand and stare and marvel as yet another aspect of Face’s complex character unfolded itself right in front of him.

 

“John?” the quiet voice at his elbow pulled his thoughts away and he found himself looking into the concerned eyes of his mother.

 

“Mom,” he greeted her and leaned in, kissing her cheek. Then he pulled back and let his eyes return to feasting on Face and his new friend.

 

_________________________

 

Rose Smith watched her son carefully, her heart heavy in her chest. She had no issues with him being gay, there was very little in this world that any of her children could do which would make her love them any less, fight for them any less fiercely. The fact of the matter was though, that being gay would throw obstacles in John’s way. It would make his life harder than it could be, full of prejudice and bigotry, violence and recriminations. Why would any mom want that for their child?

 

But she also worried about his choice of partner. Templeton was a pretty thing that was for sure, but he was so young… had so little experience of the world, how could he be right for her John who had done so much and seen so many things? It was clear that John loved him though. If she’d had any doubts at all after he’d asked so tentatively if they could both come for Christmas this year, then those doubts had been erased the second he’d seen him just then, staring at his love as if he was the most precious thing in the world.

 

And the baby of course. Rose wondered how much of the longing she’d seen in her son’s eyes was for the blue eyed post-teen he’d brought home, and how much was for the child he’d never had? Never would have either, Rose suspected. She certainly couldn’t see Templeton giving up his nightclubs and all night parties for a family anytime soon. It was nothing to her; she already had three granddaughters and a grandson, more than she had ever dared to dream for. No – her concern was for John; she knew what a big heart he had, knew what a wonderful father he’d make. She couldn’t help wondering if he was giving up far too much in his pursuit of this toy boy and their relationship.

 

___________________________

 

Hannibal had never considered having a family, although he knew it was something that Face desperately, desperately wanted. For a boy with no family, the yearning to have another person out there that shared your blood was almost overwhelming at times. Hannibal wondered now. For the first time could see them, the two of them, with a child, Face the natural father of course, he could easily relinquish his own claims there, and he could see that it might work, could be wonderful…

 

As he watched, Daisy squirmed and Face handed her back to her mother with a comment that had her blushing and then he turned, and Hannibal watched those keen blue eyes as they flicked around the room in something like panic before they found Hannibal and instead lit up over a beautiful smile.

 

Hannibal smiled back; he could never help it, and turned to the woman at his side. “Come on Mom,” gently he took her elbow. “Come and meet Face.”

 

___________________________

 

Face’s relief at seeing Hannibal heading over to rescue him was quickly doused as he noticed who was with him. The desire to run was overwhelming but he held his ground, forcing himself to look her way, finding her own intelligent blue eyes already scrutinising him carefully. He had to stop himself from straightening his clothes and checking his reflection in the mirror, but before he’d had the chance to think of a witty remark to open their conversation, Hannibal was there at his side, destroying his final shred of composure by leaning in and kissing him firmly on the mouth before running a hand around his waist.

 

“Mom, this is Face. Face, my mom, Rose.”

 

Face opened his mouth but his thoughts all cruelly deserted him, so instead he stuck out his hand and firmly shook hers with a rather formal, “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

 

She looked slightly taken aback by that, but Hannibal just laughed and tugged Face to him, kissing him again but on the top of his head this time. “Don’t mind him,” he chuckled, “he’s jet lagged. I’ll show him where we’re sleeping and let him freshen up, he’ll be back to his usual self by then.”

 

Rose smiled and nodded politely, but her eyes were guarded as Hannibal took Face’s hand and led him from the room.

 

___________________________

 

They didn’t speak as they tracked back out to the hallway, Hannibal huffing in surprise to find Face’s luggage gone from where they’d left it by the front door. He didn’t pause however, just leading Face up the sweeping staircase and along a broad hallway before smiling and pushing open the last door on the left, stepping back for Face to enter before him.

 

He watched in silence as the younger man walked into the spacious room with its own en-suite, the missing luggage stacked neatly at the foot of the large bed.

 

“Who brought that up?” Face asked, still looking lost as he wandered over to the window.  

 

“I’m guessing my dad,” Hannibal told him, closing the door and leaning against it. That would be just like his dad he knew. He would never mean to set himself up against his son, would never want to hurt him, but sometimes he just wasn’t that flexible.

 

Face nodded at that and turned to look at Hannibal, his cheeks deliciously flushed and his expression still a little lost. “Was this your room? When you lived here? _All_ of it?” Hannibal flushed as he looked around the room. It was rather large, he knew. Now he was older it had been split into separate seating and sleeping areas, two leather couches in front of the open fire, a real tree sparkling by the window. He shrugged.

 

“Yeah. All the rooms in the house are big.”

 

Face just nodded looked around again. “No posters or anything? Books? Pictures? _Anything?”_

Glancing around, Hannibal saw the room as Face would have seen it; bright, neat, clean… and completely empty of anything of a personal nature, he shrugged. “Kid, I’d moved out of this house before you were even born. You can’t blame my mom for redecorating.”

 

“I guess,” Face answered, but he looked far from convinced. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay in here with you? No one will mind?”

 

This time Hannibal frowned and quickly closed the distance between them. “Face, I’m thirty nine years old. I think my parents are happy to let me live my own life. And anyway, come here, I’ve missed you, I can’t last another second without a kiss.”

 

He didn’t give Face chance to object, just scooping him up in his arms and kissing him so deeply and thoroughly that he was soon hard and leaking in his pants. “Oh, God,” he whispered into Face’s neck. “I want you so much.”

 

Face flew back as if he’d been stung, his eyes wide but dilated. “No, no, no…” he breathed. “We can’t do _that_ , not with your _parents_ in the house!”

 

Hannibal just looked at him. “You are kidding me, right? Face – what century do you think we are living in here?”

 

Trying to push away, Face just shook his head. “I can’t… it’s just… too weird! Right?”

 

Hannibal let him go as he watched him carefully. The kid was more spooked by this whole meeting the family thing than Hannibal had imagined he would be. Strange when he was usually such a social person. Hannibal himself wasn’t worried though, knew that everyone would love him and even his dad would stay tactfully silent if he couldn’t understand it all. What was need here was a bit of TLC to help his boy acclimatise, once Face had settled, everything would be back to normal, he was sure of it.

 

_______________________

 

Barbara watched John and Templeton return to the party barely twenty minutes after leaving it, plenty of time for a quickie she knew, but neither of them had that ‘just come’ air about them that men usually struggled to hide. She cocked her head slightly and hoped they hadn’t had words, she knew her dad was being a dinosaur about the whole thing as well, but honestly, what was there to fuss about? Templeton seemed very sweet and John was certainly happy – wasn’t that all that mattered?

 

She saw Hannibal at the buffet table, piling food on his plate and wandered over, touching his arm gently so he looked down at her.

 

“Hey there, little brother.” They smiled at the shared joke; he’d towered over her for over twenty years now. “I approve of your choice in men, he seems really lovely.”

 

Hannibal smiled and Barbara was touched by the blush in his cheeks. “Thank you,” he answered quietly. “He is, he’s perfect for me.”

 

Nodding, Barbara lifted a king prawn from his plate and bit into it thoughtfully. “Is dad being difficult?”

 

There was a slight pause. “Not really. You know how he finds things like this.”

 

They both knew. Rose’s wayward brother, Theo, had dabbled more than once in same sex relationships, a move that had never failed to make Mal extremely uncomfortable in his presence, so much so that he was a virtual stranger to the family now, only postcards from exotic locations the world over letting them know he was still alive.

 

“It’s no excuse though,” Barbara’s tone was short. “We all put up with his train obsessions…”

 

“Hardly the same thing.”

 

“Near enough. You want me to talk to him for you?”

 

Hannibal frowned; he knew that Barbara’s talks were rarely quiet. “No thanks. It’s fine. It really doesn’t bother me.”

 

“And Templeton?” Hannibal frowned. “Does it bother him?”

 

“Of course not!” their eyes, identical shades of blue drifted to where Face and Rose sat talking quietly. “I’m sure he’s not even noticed.”

 

“Yeah?” Barbara shook her head. “Is that why he keeps looking at the door from the dining room every time someone comes in?” As they watched, the door opened once more, this time Josie and Caleb spilt in, looking rosy cheeked and cold. Hannibal watched carefully and there it was, the split second flick of Face’s eyes up to the door and then back to Rose again, so fast that it was easy to see why it had been missed before. Hannibal frowned.

 

“You think I should say something to him?”

 

“Absolutely. I can’t think why you thought he wouldn’t notice the fact that your father was sitting outside in sub-zero temperatures rather than come inside and face him!” Shaking her head she followed the path Josie and Caleb had taken, intent on getting them to wear a coat in the yard and Hannibal was left wondering if this was going to be a problem after all.

 

____________________________

 

Upstairs in the spare room, Gabi huddled on the windowsill, arms wrapped around her knees in a vain effort to keep warm. Her mother was in Rome for Christmas this year and Josie had asked if Gabi was going. Gabi had scoffed something acidic and tossed her hair in the way she’d seen on TV and Josie had nodded, but the truth was, how could she go when she’d never been asked?

 

In fairness, she’d never wanted to go before, back when she was little and her mom had invited her to Rio, London, Melbourne. But now it was all different. Now there was Daisy downstairs charming the pants off everyone and Uncle John’s boyfriend providing the gossip.

 

No – she didn’t really want to be in Rome, but she didn’t want to be here either. She thought it was entirely possible that she just might die of loneliness and boredom before New Year. She turned her eyes to the window and watched as the clouds scudded carelessly across the moon.

 

_____________________________

 

Hannibal had lost sight of Face and his mom as he’d spent the last twenty minutes talking to his great Uncle George, answering everything he could about his job before smiling and nodding his way through the usual anecdotes from George’s spell in the Korean War.

 

Finally George was done and excusing himself to go to the bathroom but before Hannibal had chance to move, his mother was back, her hand tight on his arm, her face earnest as she looked up at him.

 

“John!” her voice was barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you _tell_ me he was an orphan?!”

 

Hannibal frowned and tried to spot Face in the crowded room. “Because it wasn’t important,” he maintained. “That’s not who he is, that’s just how he grew up.”

 

Rose mirrored his frown. “But it _is_ important!”

 

They were interrupted by Auntie Mary wanting to get to the salad and Rose drew Hannibal further to the side, her eyes flashing the way they did when they knew they were all in trouble. Hannibal sighed. He’d deliberately not wanted to tell Rose about that part of Face’s life, he knew that she’d already be worried about the age difference and their ranks, throwing in that he was an orphan might just have tipped the balance too far – the last thing Hannibal needed was his mother thinking that Face only saw him as a father figure. Or a meal ticket.

 

“I don’t see why,” he maintained.

 

“Because I’ve just embarrassed myself! And him… I asked him what his parents did for a living and he had to tell me, you could see he didn’t want to, he went bright red! Honestly, John? What were you thinking?”

 

“Is he okay?” instantly Hannibal was on his toes, using his height to try and spot Face again. “Where’s he gone?”

 

“Bathroom. He’s fine, I think… now anyway, but seriously,” her grip tightened once more, “ _what_ were you thinking?”

 

Hannibal looked down and for a moment considered telling her but then changed his mind once more. “Nothing, mom.”

 

Rose, however, was no fool. “Are you _embarrassed_ by him?”

 

“What?!” he shook his head, appalled. “No! Not at all, I just don’t think it’s important!”

 

“If you truly thought that, you would have mentioned it in passing,” Rose maintained. “What is it, then? What’s wrong?”

 

Hannibal was caught and he knew it so he just shook his head and looked away.

 

“You think I’d disapprove?” there was no missing the hurt in Rose’s voice. “You think I’d turn the poor boy away just because he has no family? Is that what you think, John? That I’m that shallow?”

 

“No!” Hannibal was appalled at what he’d caused. “I just…” he shook his head. “He’s a man, mom,” he whispered eventually. “He’s nineteen years younger than me and my subordinate. I just didn’t want to give you any more reasons to hate him.”

 

Rose looked like she’d been slapped and took a visible step back. “Hate him?” she shook her head. “John, do you love him?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

A soft hand was laid on his cheek. “Then why would I do anything other than welcome him with open arms?” Rose gave him a shaky smile. “I’ve always known you were different John, ever since you were born. You were the tough one, all action and mud and scrapes, but you were always so sensitive as well. I could see you were just going through the motions with your various girls, could see you weren’t really interested. Every night since then I’ve prayed that you’d find someone, someone worthy of you, someone you could love. I’ve really never cared about anything more than that.”

 

Hannibal had to swallow hard, blinking his eyes clear of the moisture in them. “I’m sorry,” his voice was nothing more than a rough whisper.

 

Rose smiled at him, her own eyes a little bright. “I’m sorry too,” she admitted. “For not making my thoughts clearer.” She reached up to hug him and he held her tight, lifting her up a little like her always used to. “Go and find him,” Rose whispered in his ear. “Make sure he’s okay. He’s got enough to deal with already with your father being such as ass without adding this to it all as well.”

 

For a moment, Hannibal just squeezed her tightly, inhaling deeply, that familiar smell of perfume that clung to everything she had. “I love you, mom,” he whispered, words he hadn’t said out loud for years.

 

Rose squeezed him back. “I love you too. Now go on, you’re making my mascara run!”

 

Laughing, he put her down and went off in search of Face.

 

______________________________

 

Face was in the kitchen, hiding in the corner, another warm glass of red stuff in his hand, starring out at the mini-party going on around the back near the fire-pit.

 

He’d picked Hannibal’s father out straight away. He looked a lot like Adam who was out there as well, along with Barbara’s husband, Derrick. Face had been about to go out, introduce himself when no one else had done it for him but then he’d chickened out, decided to lurk in the shadows instead, picking up snatches of their conversation and building himself up to the final but most daunting meeting.

 

Adam shifted around; putting his back to the door which meant his voice came through loud and clear. “Yeah, well, she’s got a temper like a volcano that one. Takes after her mother of you ask me,” he took a swig of beer. “Hope Daisy grows up a little more laid back.”

 

“It’s a teenage thing,” Malcolm interjected. “Can’t you remember what Babs was like when she was in her teens? You and John were scared witless by her.”

 

“She’s just the same now,” Derrick confided from his chair. “Rules the house with a rod of iron.”

 

The three men laughed and Adam took a long swig of his beer. “Debbie’s the same. Damn hormones are all over the place still. I don’t know if John hasn’t got the right idea after all.”

 

Adam’s throwaway comment created a sudden stillness that stretched right into the kitchen where Face thought even his heart had stopped beating.

 

“Don’t say that,” Malcom’s voice was quiet but still carried. “This is nothing to him. _He’s_ nothing to him. It’s just a phase, that’s all.”

 

“Eaves-droppers never hear anything good about themselves, you know.”

 

The deep voice behind him had Face spinning around to come face to face with a mountain of a man who had just stepped in from the door at the side of the house. He looked cold, wrapped up as he was in layers of well-worn but pricey looking down. The layers added to his bulk, he must have been at least six foot five tall, and he seemed to fill the entire kitchen from his silvery hair to his huge booted feet. If he’d had a beard, Face would have been certain that this was Santa Claus beaming at him.

 

‘Santa’ laughed at Face’s stunned expression and took hold of his hand, pumping it firmly. “You must be young John’s toy boy then? Templeton, right?”

 

Despite finding that description nothing short of insulting, Face just nodded, still totally clueless as to whom this knew-comer was.

 

The big hand holding his didn’t relinquish its grip, even as the keen blue eyes drifted out to the yard and back to Face again. “Ignore Malcolm,” he offered in a conversational tone. “He’s an idiot. Always was and always will be. My sister could have done so much better than that…” He drifted off into silence for a minute and then snapped back to himself, shaking Face’s trapped hand once more before stepping back and offering him a huge grin. “Well, pleasure to meet you, Templeton. I hope you and John will be very happy together. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to see if I have a bed for the night…”

 

He strode out of the kitchen and Face was left feeling very confused about the whole experience. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled slightly and he looked around, glancing out into the night to find Malcolm, Adam and Derrick all staring back at him, each with varying degrees of embarrassment in their expressions.

 

Shaking his head at the complexity of it all, Face just turned and headed for the hallway.

 

_______________________

 

Caleb’s eyes were huge as he watched the giant in the big red coat stride across the room before picking his Grandma up in his arms and spinning her around.

 

The whole room fell silent, just for a second, before erupting into noise once more. Caleb was scared, he had no idea who this man was and what he was doing with his Gran and wanted to run for his dad who was outside with Grandpa. Grandma had screamed when the man picked her up, but now everyone had started talking and moving again and no one was looking frightened, no one was trying to save Gran, not even herself as she clung to the huge man in the middle of the room.

 

Suddenly Josie was at his side, nibbling on a donut as she watched the commotion and Caleb sidled just that little bit closer to her.

 

“Who’s that?” he asked quietly, wondering if it was okay to hold her hand.

 

Josie looked down at him, frosting on her top lip and frowned. “You don’t know?” she said scathingly and, feeling very small, Caleb shook his head. “That’s Uncle Theo,” Josie announced grandly. “His photo is in the kitchen, he’s Grandma’s brother.”

 

She drifted off then and Caleb stood against the wall watching the adults hug each other. Uncle Theo was an adventurer he knew. He’d always thought that had sounded a pretty cool job to have until his teacher told him no one could be an adventurer and get paid. Caleb had wanted to ask Uncle Theo about that and he would, see if he had any tips for him. But right then he was quite happy to stand up against the wall and watch the others and marvel at the fact that Uncle Theo looked a lot more like Santa than he did Indiana Jones.

 

_________________________

 

All the loud voices and the excited babble, drew Hannibal back into the lounge from his search for Face and he broke out in a genuinely pleased grin to see his Uncle Theo standing there, surrounded by happy relatives.

 

“John!” Theo boomed as he caught sight of him. “Come here and let me look at you!”

 

The sea of people parted to let Hannibal through and he and Theo hugged, Theo still managing to look tall even next to him.

 

“How are you doing, you old rogue?” Hannibal asked. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

 

“None of us did,” Rose admitted with tears in her eyes. “Honestly, Theo, if you’d told us, we could have met you at the station!”

 

“I didn’t know myself,” Theo admitted letting Rose take his coat. “Wasn’t sure I’d catch the train. Didn’t want to disappoint you.”

 

“How long are you staying?” This was Barbara, ever the practical. “Josie’s in the chorus at the opera on Saturday night if you are here for that?”

 

Theo rubbed his hands together, “Well, that would be grand, where is she? I want to see how much she’s grown…”

 

As the talk moved onto Josie, Hannibal smiled his apologies and headed off, still unsure as to where Face had gone.

 

Twenty minutes later he was officially worried. He’d searched all over the house, asked everyone he’d come across and no one had seen Face for the last half hour. His mind kept on showing him the lost look his boy had worn since he’d arrived and his heart kept on reminding him how Face dealt with trauma by running from it.

 

He refused to believe it though, refused to believe they hadn’t come further than that. With his heart thumping heavily in his chest, he headed back down to join the party.

 

____________________________

 

“Anyway,” Theo leant forward in his seat, his eyes twinkling as he drew his audience in closer. “There were only minutes to go, the bride’s family were really annoyed, the bride herself was in tears, and then, we heard an engine…”

 

“A plane?” Caleb piped up, “Was it a plane Uncle Theo?”

 

“Nope,” Theo paused for dramatic effect. “It was a speedboat, and it was heading right for the beach!”

 

“Was the groom in it?” this was Josie.

 

“Yep. And the best man, _and_ the bride’s brother and it came in, faster and faster and faster… and drove right up onto the beach!”

 

There was a collective ‘ooh’ at that from the assembled listeners and Josie’s voice rang out with a, “Did that really happen?” to which Theo nodded earnestly and leaned in to finish off the final details from the wedding he’d been to in Thailand.

 

In the momentary silence, however, it was Mal’s hushed whisper to Adam from the doorway that caught everyone’s attention. “I doubt any of it happened. It’s just another of his stories…”

 

A hush fell and Theo frowned at the table in front of him, clearly deciding whether to follow that up or not. Eventually, he sighed and looked up, meeting Mal’s eye across the room.

 

“I know you don’t like me, Malcolm,” he said quietly. “But do you have to insist on making a scene and ruining everyone’s Christmas Eve?”

 

Mal narrowed his eyes. “I think you’re the one doing that; filling the kids’ heads with stupid made-up stories. Wasn’t it bad enough you did that to my children, without corrupting another generation as well?”

 

If anything the silence grew. Rose got to her feet slowly, a warning, “Malcolm…” slipping from her lips.

 

“What?” he asked her. “Don’t blame me, I didn’t start this, he’s the one making the scene!”

 

At his mother’s desperate look Adam rose to his feet, heading for his father. “Okay, dad. Let’s just let this go, it’s not the time or the place. Come on, let’s get another beer.”

 

For a second, it looked as if Malcolm was going to resist, but instead he just shook his head and went with Adam, his muttered comment of, “What’s wrong with me wanting to stop him ruining Caleb’s life, like he did John’s?” sounding loud in the still-quiet room.

 

Theo leapt to his feet as Rose put a hand on his chest, just as the door opened and Hannibal stepped into the thick, cold silence.

 

“I can’t find Face…” he started, tailing off as he looked from frozen expression to frozen expression. He took in his mother with her hand on Theo’s chest and Adam, trying to tug his father out of the room and his expression darkened. “Not now,” he said, slipping seamlessly into Colonel mode. “Whatever issues you two still have, can’t you at least let them lie over Christmas?”

 

Mal shook Adam’s hand off his arm. “I can,” he muttered, “it’s him trying to start trouble, that’s all.”

 

“Yeah?” Theo’s eyes held a fierce anger in them that the family had never seen before. “Well, why don’t you ask him where Templeton is then, John? And what he was saying about him when the boy was listening in the kitchen?”  

 

______________________

 

Hannibal’s heart stuttered at that and for a moment he couldn’t say a word.

 

“Oh, Malcolm!” Rose gasped, sagging into her seat once more.

 

“I didn’t say anything!” Mal protested, eyes flicking to Adam, “Did I, son? I never said a word about him! Did I?”

 

Adam frowned and looked away and Hannibal felt an anger ignite within him that was frighteningly hot in its intensity.  “What did you say?” he asked quietly.

 

“Nothing! I mean it, John! We were just talking in general and…” he stopped and swallowed hard, glancing at Rose before continuing. “I just said I felt this was a phase you were going through that’s all, that’s all I said…”

 

Hannibal nodded calmly, the anger locked tightly away. “And he heard you, right? Say that he was just a ‘phase’?”

 

“I didn’t know he was there…”

 

“Okay, right…” he stood and thought for a minute, his eyes raking over his father and then he spoke again. “I need to go and find him,” his voice was steady. “Make sure he’s okay. If he’s not, we’ll be leaving for a hotel, I’m sure you’ll understand that.” No one spoke. “But before I go, I’m going to share a few truths with you, just so you are perfectly clear as to where I stand on this.” His blue eyes found Malcom’s and held them tightly. “I am gay, dad. It’s not a phase, it’s not a fad, it’s me and it’s been me since well before I knew the word. I never told you when I was younger, because I’d seen the way you treated Uncle Theo and couldn’t stand for that to happen to me, so I lied and hid from you, from mom, from the Army and even from myself. Until I met Face.

 

“I was gay before he was even born, so don’t be blaming him. Just like you can’t blame Theo either. In fact, why does there have to be any _blame_ at all? You don’t hate Barbara for having brown hair, or Adam for liking baseball better than football, so why do you hate this part of me?”

 

Mal opened his mouth but Hannibal just pushed on.

 

“I love Face,” he said in the same steady voice. “I love his strength and his honesty and the love he gives to me. He’s the only person who’s ever seen me for who I really am, and the only person I can be myself with. You are my family, and I cherish every single one of you but believe me,” his voice dropped now and the look he gave his father was nothing short of icy. “If you can’t accept him, if you can’t accept _me_ , then I will choose him. You understand that? I can’t live without him and I certainly don’t intend trying. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to find him.”

 

The room was still silent as Hannibal whirled away, stalking out and slamming the door so hard the walls shook – the only flash of anger he was going to allow himself.

 

________________________

 

Half an hour later, Face was still missing and Hannibal was getting desperate. The whole family were helping the search, apart from Mal who had been banished to the garden, despite the falling snow, but there was nothing but a depressing blank. Adam, Rose, Derrick, Theo and Hannibal were all in the kitchen, trading hopeless suggestions when the door from the lounge opened and Barbara came in.

 

“Adam,” she met her brother’s eyes. “When was the last time you saw, Gabi?”

 

Adam frowned. “I don’t know… a couple of hours? She went upstairs with Josie.”

 

“I know, But Josie’s been down ages. Said she left Gabi on the windowsill but she’s not there now.”

 

Pushing off from the counter, Adam glanced at Hannibal. “What the fuck’s going on, John?” But it was Rose who answered.

 

“Don’t,” she warned in a voice that no one dared challenge. “We have no idea where the pair of them are, making wild accusations will get us nowhere. Now, Babs, where did Josie say she saw Gabi last?”

 

“In the spare room, on the windowsill.”

 

“Well, let’s go and have a look.”

 

“I’ve looked in there already!” Adam protested, “We all have!” but Hannibal was already on the move and the others followed him.

 

The spare room was cold and quiet, the curtains half open and Hannibal crossed straight over, running his fingers around the edges of the old sash. There was a gap at the bottom of the glass, just half an inch, but the reason for the icy room and without further pause, he slid his fingers in and lifted the frame up. It slid easily, barely a squeak or a shudder and Hannibal leaned out into the falling snow. He glanced down, nothing but white dusted gravel and then up, getting a faceful of blinding snow. There was nothing to see at all and he bit back an impatient sigh before leaning right out and calling, “Face!”

 

He counted to five, but all he heard was the snow deadened silence and then, just as he was drawing back in from yet another dead end, there was something else, a voice maybe? And he leaned out again. “Face!”

 

This time the reply was instant, if barely discernible even in the silence. “Hannibal? Up here… hurry…”

 

He didn’t need asking twice and climbed straight out into the ledge, Theo holding his legs as he looked up onto the sloping roof. “Face? What you doing?”

 

Face was laid out on the tiles, face down, feet near the guttering, a layer of snow covering his thin clothes. He craned his neck to look down, and Hannibal could see how cold he was. “It’s so fu- flipping icy up here… here, help me get her down.”

 

Hannibal had forgotten about Gabi, but then, suddenly, there she was, appearing like magic from under Face’s snow covered body and Face started lowering her down the steep tiles, holding her hand tightly as she dropped closer and closer to Hannibal.

 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Hannibal told her, seeing her white and terrified face. “We’ve got you, you’re okay.”

 

Slowly, the two Rangers passed her between them, Hannibal carefully lowering her over the edge and through the window to Adam who greeted her with a frantic, “What on earth do you think you were doing out there?!”

 

Rose’s voice was there and Mal’s and also Gabi’s sobs and Hannibal turned back to Face. “You okay there, kid? You coming down?”

 

Face shook his head, “It’s too slippy,” he hissed, the shivers clear in his voice, “If I slip, I’ll take us both over the edge.”

 

Hannibal narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got to come down, you’ll freeze out here!”

 

“Get a rope,” Face shivered. “I’m not moving until I’m tied off to the chimney, not gonna hurt you, John.”

 

Swearing under his breath, Hannibal didn’t have time to tell Face what he thought of that plan before he felt movement next to him and then his father appeared at his side, standing shoulder to shoulder, his arms raised like Hannibal’s up on the tiles.

 

“It’s okay, son,” he said, addressing Face. “I’m here now, if you slip, we’ll be able to hold you. Now come on down, slowly.”

 

For a moment, Face didn’t move, then he started edging carefully down, inch by inch, spreading his weight every time he felt himself slip, right up until Hannibal and Malcolm could grab him, four strong hands wrapped around his ankles. Slowly, they guided him down and over the guttering, until Theo could grab his legs and pull him into the relative warmth of the room.

 

Jumping in after him, Hannibal took him from Theo and wrapped him up in his arms, feeling the icy chill to his body. “Oh Face,” he whispered. “You okay, baby? What the hell were you doing out there?”

 

Face just shook his head, too cold to say anything more and Hannibal left it, pulling a cold arm over his shoulder and almost carrying him towards the door. It opened just as they approached it and Rose rushed in towards them. “Oh, Templeton, you poor thing! Look at you, you’re almost blue!” She was right, Face was shivering hard and the skin around his mouth and chin did have a distinct blue tinge to it. Rose quickly crossed to Face and gently put her hands on his cheeks as Hannibal held him upright. “Oh, you’re freezing!” she shook her head and turned to Malcolm who was still standing by the open window. “Mal, shut that window then go and run him a bath, not too warm, in John’s en-suite.”

 

Malcom vanished and Rose stepped back as Theo come forward. “Here, John, let me help.”

 

Together, they walked Face towards the door and Hannibal glanced back over his shoulder at his mother who was following them, her face pinched in worry. “What the hell happened?” he hissed as they manoeuvred Face into the hallway and Rose shook her head. “Oh, it was Gabi…” she seemed more than a little embarrassed. “She’s been having a hard time since Daisy arrived and her mother’s been her usual feckless self,” it was clear from the look in Rose’s eyes what she thought of that. “It seems she’d finally had enough and decided to stage a little rooftop protest. She climbed up onto the roof but slipped on the tiles. She called for help, poor Templeton here must have heard her and climbed up onto the roof as well. They’ve been there in all the snow for all this time!”

 

Hannibal chose not to say anything, remembering the look of terror that had been on Gabi’s face as they pulled her back into the house. Face suddenly sagged in his arms and without further thought he simply lifted him up, cradling him against his chest and feeling the cold, wet clothes pressing into him. “Is he okay?” Rose looked almost as scared as Gabi had now. “He looks much worse than Gabi…”

 

Hannibal knew that Face had deliberately sheltered Gabi with his own body, trying to keep her warm and alive until help arrived and his heart swelled with love and pride. “He’ll be fine,” he answered brusquely, but inside his heart was pounding in fear.

 

They had reached his room now and the door was standing open. Turning sideways, Hannibal walked over to the space in front of the fire as his mother hurried straight into the en-suite, talking quietly with Malcolm who had the hot tap running full into the bath. He started to strip Face’s clothes off him, and wordlessly, Theo helped until, with Face just in his trunks, Hannibal picked him up again and carried him to the bath.

 

The water wasn’t hot at all, barely warm to Hannibal’s heated skin but Face hissed and bucked, coming back to himself, as soon as he was lowered in. His eyes flew open, wide and alarmed and Hannibal took his face, turning it towards him, pressing their foreheads together, and Rose, Theo and Malcolm all withdrew, subtly leaving them to it.

 

_______________________

 

“Are you feeling any warmer at all?” an hour later, Hannibal hovered uneasily as Face tried to bury himself deeper in the duvet which was laid on one of the leather coaches in front of the fire.

 

Face nodded, “A bit,” but he still looked far too pale and pinched for Hannibal’s tastes.

 

There was a tap on the door behind them and Rose came in, a tray in her hands with two steaming mugs on it. Her eyes went straight to Face and Hannibal watched her carefully, his own chest tightening in worry as he saw her brow crease. “How are you feeling?” she asked, placing the tray down on the coffee table. “You’re still ever so pale.”

 

“Better, thanks,” Face offered, throwing up a bright smile that had Hannibal frowning. “I’ll be down again in a few minutes.”

 

“You’ll be no such thing!” Rose answered him smartly. “Everyone’s gone, Gabi’s in bed, cuddled up to her dad, and that’s what you need as well.” Her eyes turned to Hannibal, “John, he needs some body heat.”

 

It was hard to say who of the two of them looked the most uncomfortable at that, but Face wasn’t to be so easily put off. “But,” his eyes flicked to Hannibal and back. “What about the presents? Hannibal said you do presents on Christmas Eve? Mine are all wrapped and ready to give…”

 

Hannibal almost choked at that, the tears springing up in his eyes as he realised for the first time, just how much Face had been looking forward, tentatively maybe, to the big family present exchange. It seemed that the same thought hit Rose as well as she sat on the edge of the sofa, her own eyes swimming in tears as she placed her hand gently on Face’s cheek. “Don’t worry,” she told him softly. “Gabi and Adam really weren’t in the mood and poor Josie was very upset as well, so we’ve decided to postpone it until the morning instead. You’ll enjoy it all the better then.”

 

Face just nodded, and Hannibal again had to fight the lump in his throat as his mother leant forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Drink your hot chocolate,” she told him as she stood again, “and cuddle up with my boy, get yourself warm. I’ll be back in half an hour, see how you’re doing.”

 

Thanking her quietly, Face took the mug and blew on it before taking a little sip as Rose left.

 

The second the door closed behind her, Hannibal was in her space, leaning in and holding Face, mug and all, pressing kisses into his neck, feeling the lingering chill in his skin. “I love you,” he whispered, still, a good eight months after the first time he’d said it, adoring the way it slid from his lips.

 

He heard Face huff in embarrassment and smiled. Naked emotions like that were still hard for his boy, but he’d get there, Hannibal knew he would in the end.

 

He pulled back and climbed to his feet, stripping out of his clothes as Face stared at him. “Boss – what are you doing?”

 

“Skin to skin,” Hannibal informed him briskly. “Come on Lieutenant, you’ve done your cold survival course, you know the drill.”

 

Face laughed. “But I’m not in a snow hole on the side of some Austrian mountain! I’m in front of the fire in your mom’s house…”

 

“Irrelevant, now lean forward.” Face grumbled to himself but did so anyway, and Hannibal, wearing nothing more than his briefs, slid in behind him, shuffling and wriggling until Face was almost laid on top of him, the duvet covering them both, the fire roaring away at their side. With a bit more adjustment, they each had their hot chocolates in their hands and they lay back, Hannibal feeling the chill slowly, slowly creeping from Face’s body as the fire crackled and the snow fluttered against the windows.

 

“This is nice,” Face whispered about ten minutes later, just as Hannibal had wondered if he was sleeping. “I hoped we’d get chance for some cuddling in front of the fire.”

 

Hannibal laughed and kissed the top of Face’s head but he was more than thrilled at what he’d heard. Yes, it was nice to cuddle and he’d hoped for the chance as well, but more than that was the fact that Face had actually voiced it, had actually felt secure enough in Hannibal’s love to be able to admit to needing something other than the sex he’d previously lived on. Hannibal kissed him again. “Me too. It was my Christmas wish.” Face fell silent and Hannibal smiled, hoping that the embarrassment would at least warm him up a little.

 

Soft carols played on his mother’s old piano in the hallway drifted up to him and he smiled; _this_ was what he’d had in mind for his first Christmas with Face, he could stay like this forever. Face suddenly fell heavier on him and his smile broadened, with the kid asleep on him like this, he might just have to.

 

__________________________

 

Face opened his eyes to a clear, white light and blinked a few times, disorientated, until he realised he was in Hannibal’s room, in Hannibal’s _bed_ and the man himself was laid along his back, pressing kisses into his hair.

 

“Good morning, sweetheart. Merry Christmas! I thought you were going to sleep until noon!”

 

Face shifted on his back under the duvet, surprised to find Hannibal already out of the bed and dressed in a t-shirt and loose flannel pants. “What time is it?” he craned his neck, trying to see the clock on the mantle, worried he’d missed the present giving but Hannibal kissed his lips, pushing him down a little.

 

“A little after eight, that’s all, don’t worry. Don’t I get a ‘Happy Christmas’ back?”

 

Face frowned, “Oh, God, sorry, boss. Happy Christmas, hang on…” he started trying to scramble from the bed but Hannibal held him back, leaning over him and pressing him into the mattress.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“My case, your present’s in there. I-”

 

“My present’s here,” Hannibal growled, lowering himself fully on top of Face and kissing him thoroughly.

 

Face responded fully, like he always did. This relationship with Hannibal was still so wonderfully new and amazing, sometimes he honestly thought he was dreaming. They’d been together just a little over a year, the circumstances of their joining, Hannibal saving Face from a lifetime of humiliation and degradation under Colonel Sol Sanders, was still something he tried not to think about. But if that time of his life had been the absolute pit of despair, then every day he had Hannibal by his side was a new peak of joy.

 

They had to be very careful though, sometimes days would go by without them getting the chance to share anything more than a lingering look across a crowded tent, but when they did get their chance to be alone – it was wonderful. It didn’t matter to Face where they were, supply tent, Hannibal’s quarters, grotty motel, he was always just that pleased to be with his man. But this was nice, a huge comfortable bed, Hannibal’s bulk pressing on him, massaging his growing erection, the snow-covered quiet of his mother’s house a-

 

With a jerk he pulled away, squirming madly from under Hannibal’s weight, gasping through lack of air and leaving a very stunned colonel laid on the duvet without him.

 

“Kid?” Hannibal blinked his lust-filled eyes and shuffled around on the bed, his sizable erection showing plainly through the flannel of his pants.

 

Face shook his head and shuffled right up the bed until his back was pressed against the ornate head-board. “We’re in your _parents’_ house!” he whispered. “We can’t do that!”

 

For a second Hannibal just looked, then he blinked and laughed, turning onto his back and chuckling in a way that Face found endearing and annoying all at the same time. Eventually he was done and turned back to look up at Face who was still crouched up against the headboard scowling at him. “I love you,” he said and Face’s stomach swooped with the unexpected joy of hearing those words. “So much, Face. I love you so much.”

 

He crawled up the bed and they kissed again, slowly this time, but still enough to start a roiling fire deep in Face’s gut that made him wonder if he needed to worry about the Smiths after all. Just at that point when he was about to give in and climb onto Hannibal’s chest, the other man pulled away, smiling at Face and instead asking, “How are you feeling anyway? You certainly feel pretty _hot_ to me…” Hannibal leered in a way that had Face rolling his eyes.

 

“I feel just fine, thank you,” then he frowned. “How did I end up in bed?”

 

Hannibal laughed again, “You don’t remember?”

 

Face thought back and suddenly dredged up a sleep filled memory from the middle of the night; stumbling into the bathroom to relieve himself, almost jumping out of his skin when Hannibal was waiting outside the door for him, drawing him into the big bed, warm arms around him – and then he’s pretty sure they fell straight back to sleep. “Yeah… I do now. How’s Gabi?”

 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Hannibal slid from the bed and stood arranging his lounge pants, trying to get his erection to be a little less obvious. “Might make her think twice about pulling some stupid teenage stunt.”

 

Face frowned. “She was really upset.”

 

Hannibal looked over at him, and Face was suddenly very conscious of his tousled hair and pink cheeks, the fact that he was naked in Hannibal’s bed and he felt his blush deepen. Hannibal however just smiled at him, a genuine smile of warmth and love that had Face’s insides jumping again. “I know, sweetheart. Breakfast?”

 

Face blinked at him. “I thought we were doing presents?” As much as Face was looking forward to giving his gifts in the big family circle, he had hoped that he and Hannibal would be able to exchange their presents in private.

 

“Yours is under the tree. Why don’t I go and get it while I get your breakfast and we’ll do them in bed?”

 

A loud growl from Face’s stomach seemed to seal that idea and with a quick kiss to his lips, Hannibal stepped away from the bed.

 

“Oh!” he said, turning again to Face, “Just to warn you, mom’s been up for hours worrying about you. I had to stop her coming in here to wake you up to see if you were okay, so I reckon she’ll be up to see you pretty soon.”

 

“Shit…” Face threw back the covers, “I’d better get dressed then!”

 

“No you won’t, Lieutenant,” There was a growl to Hannibal’s voice that resonated right through Face’s groin. He stepped forward and physically flipped Face’s legs back into the bed, pulling the duvet back as well, but Face sure he was smirking at the half-hard cock he’d seen there. “Mom’ll kill me if she thinks I’m not looking after you properly. You’re her hero since you saved her first born grandchild from a nasty end.”

 

Face flushed but settled in the covers anyway. “I didn’t do anything…”

 

Laughing, Hannibal planted a final kiss on his head and slipped out of the room. 

 

The second the door shut behind him, Face flopped into the cushions and thought back to everything that had happened in the scant hours since his arrival at the Smith’s house. It had been nothing like he’d imagined. Everything was so – _chaotic_ – but in a good sense he supposed, a little like life in the orphanage had been; you just didn’t know what was coming next.

 

He wasn’t sure what to make of Rose. At first he thought she’d been a little cool towards him, unlike Barbara who treated him like a long lost friend the second she’d seen him. But then after the incident on the roof, she’d seemed to thaw, unlike Face who felt cold simply at the memory of that most miserable hour on the tiles, clinging desperately to the cold slate, trying to keep up a steady conversation with a terrified teen while all the time the snow lay thicker and thicker over his body, like a sadistic anti-blanket he mused.

 

He hoped Rose wasn’t just acting out of gratitude to him; he really didn’t do anything much. Was there anyone in the world who would have walked away from Gabi like that? Left her to her fate? He really didn’t think so. He was just in the right place at the right time.

 

There was a knock at the door, and Face remembered Hannibal’s warning about Rose. He pulled himself upright and smoothed the duvet down, making sure it was thick enough to hide his stubborn erection. He quickly contemplated trying to do something with his hair, but gave up on the idea, guessing it was a lost cause before clearing his throat and calling, “Come in!”

 

He had already fixed his best welcoming grin firmly in place and he was glad he had as he felt it wobble slightly when he saw that it wasn’t the expected Rose who came through his door, closing it firmly behind him and walking purposefully across the carpet to where Face sat in the middle of the bed.

 

Instantly he felt cold fear wash through him, deflating his erection better than anything else he’d tried so far that morning; sitting naked and rumpled in Hannibal’s bed was not the way he’d wanted to experience his first meeting with Hannibal’s father, especially after what he’d heard in the kitchen the previous night. His stomach swooped and churned as that memory surged back into his mind; this man didn’t take him seriously, didn’t think Hannibal took him seriously. How was Face supposed to deal with that? At least he didn’t have a hickey he found himself desperately musing.

 

Mal Smith looked awkward. He was dressed in slacks and a polo shirt and was obviously fresh from the shower, but the dark smudges led Face to wonder how much sleep he’d had the night before. He walked right up to the bed, before looking Face in the eye and holding out his hand. “I didn’t get the chance to meet you last night. I’m Malcolm, John’s father.”

 

For a second, Face was stunned into inaction – did this man think for one second that Face _didn’t_ know who he was? Didn’t know the real reason they hadn’t been introduced the previous night? But then his inbred politeness took over and, in a move that would have made Father David proud, took Malcom’s hand and shook it firmly. “Good to meet you, sir,” he offered respectfully.

 

In turn, his quiet response seemed to floor Mal, who dropped his hand after the shake and instead just stood, staring at Face as he sat in the bed. The scrutiny made Face uncomfortable. He was very aware of his nakedness, and also of the thin scars that still criss-crossed his body after that horrendous mission in Iran earlier in the year. They were fading now, would be gone completely in another six months he hoped – he never went anywhere without his Bio-Oil, but still, he didn’t really like other people seeing them.

 

The creeping, uncomfortable feeling grew until it was too much to bear and Face tugged the duvet up a little higher, covering his chest and snapping Mal out of his funk. His eyes flicked up to meet Face’s and Face was surprised at the whirling mix on emotion he saw there.

 

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Mal’s voice was still that strange, formal tone, so different from the one Face had heard last night when he was talking with Adam and Derrick. “But there are a couple of things I wanted to say.”

 

Face’s blood ran cold, a confrontation with Hannibal’s father was not the way he’d wanted his Christmas Day to start off. Part of him wished Hannibal would hurry up back to the room and save him, part of him wanted his lover to stay away, be spared hearing whatever it was that Face was going to get thrown his way…

 

“Firstly, Gabi,” Mal shook his head. “I really can’t thank you enough for helping her last night, and at such a risk to yourself. It was very brave and Rose and I, the whole family really, are so very, very grateful.”

 

Face flushed, feeling more awkward still, he couldn’t understand why everyone thought it was such a big deal, he’d only done what any of them would have. “It’s fine,” he managed to force out. “It was nothing.”

 

Malcolm nodded and his brows drew together and Face braced himself for the ‘but’. He wondered if Hannibal would stay here once Face was thrown out, wondered if he could catch a flight back to LA today. It would be ironic to spend another Christmas in the little attic guest rooms at the orphanage when he’d been convinced that last year had been his last one…

 

“Templeton…” Malcom’s voice drew Face’s attention back to the matter at hand. “I am sorry if my words in the garden last night upset you,” Face was hardly breathing. “John only told us of his… preferences… in the summer, it has been a big change to get used to.”

 

Face stayed silent.

 

“Maybe I’m still not used to it. Maybe I’m still in denial, I don’t know.” He shuffled awkwardly. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I don’t know what to do here. I love John, I want him to be happy, and he says you make him happy…”

 

A nugget of warmth uncurled in Face’s gut at that.

 

“But I still find this an almost impossible situation.”

 

Face nodded, the knowledge that Hannibal had defended him to his father fuelling his courage. “You want him to be happy,” he offered, “but in a way that makes you happy too?”

 

The tiniest hint of a smile flickered at the edge of Malcolm’s lips before it was gone. “I suppose so, yes.”

 

“Well, I guess that’s understandable.” The intricacies of close family relations were a mystery to Face, but he’d thought about it enough over the years, wondered if he was actually better off without the burden of a parent’s expectations to carry around on his back. “The thing is though,” he met Malcom’s eye. “He’ll live his life the way he sees fit with or without your approval, there’s nothing either of us can do about that. The difference is, he’d _like_ your approval, or at the very least your understanding. Then he’d be able to come back here and visit and spend time with you instead of hiding away while you’re alive and then regretting it all when you’re dead.”

 

Malcolm looked more than a little taken aback at Face’s bluntness and Face let out a long sigh. “This isn’t about me, sir; your opinion of me matters very little. You throw me out and I’ll leave quietly and you’ll never have to see me again. Problem is you’ll have destroyed your relationship with your son as well. Not over me though, don’t think that, but over _him_ and the way he is.”

 

Face looked up at Malcolm standing there and was suddenly hit so hard by the stupidity of it all that he felt his eyes fill with tears. Here he was, no father at all, no family, no nothing, and here was Malcolm, with everything anyone could ever want, wife, children, grandchildren, a huge network of relatives and yet he was prepared to throw it all away, and for what? Because he didn’t approve of what his son did in bed? “If you do that,” he looked away, appalled at the roughness of his voice, “then you’re a fool.”   

 

Silence fell in the room. The fire cracked loudly as a log broke in two and then Face heard footsteps retreating across the carpet as Malcolm left and in a moment he was alone. He let his eyes sink closed and flopped back into the pillows.

________________________ 

 

Mal walked blindly down the corridor and leaned up against the wall at the head of the stairs, his eyes closing and his heart thudding hard in his chest. He’d only gone in to see Templeton and thank him for what he did for Gabi, the apology as well of course, but somehow they ended up, what? Arguing? No – he didn’t think they’d done that. Had he insulted the boy? No… he didn’t think that either, so what the hell had happened and why did he feel so absolutely awful now?

 

Cheerful whistling from the stairs brought him back to himself and he pushed away from the wall just as John, carrying a tray laden with breakfast and a neatly wrapped box, came around the corner. He smiled at his father and was clearly about to wish him a Merry Christmas when he froze in his steps. As Mal watched, everything about him tensed, those clear blue eyes flicked down the corridor to the bedroom door and then back to Mal and he sighed, long and hard.

 

“What have you said to him, now?”

 

Mal was lost, he truly was. The thing was, he didn’t know. He didn’t know what had gone wrong with his apologies, didn’t know how he’d made such a mess of everything when it was such an important day. He shook his head, feeling totally confused.

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted in a voice he barely recognised. “I wanted to make it all right…”

 

As he watched, John frowned and stepped around him. As he’d stated the night before, it was very clear who his loyalties lay with and Mal suddenly realised that of course, that was only right. He watched him retreating down the corridor, Templeton’s words reverberating around his head.

 

“There’s nothing about you I hate,” he blurted to John’s back. “I just… I suppose I just thought I knew what was best for you.”

 

John stopped but didn’t turn around.

 

“I don’t want to drive you away, either of you. If he’s important to you, then he’s always welcome here, John. I mean that, I really do.”

 

For a long moment, John didn’t move, then he slowly turned around, his eyes suspicious. “Why this sudden change of heart?” but Malcolm just shook his head.

 

“No change of heart, son. I’ve always wanted you to be happy. I just…” he shook his head again, helpless, eyes falling to the carpet. “Well – I guess I’ve just been trying so hard to keep us close, that I’ve ended up pushing you away.”

 

There was silence in the corridor. Malcolm stared at the carpet, wondering what he’d do if John left, wondering why it had always scared him so much what his son thought of him, much more than it ever had done with Adam. He supposed part of reason he hated Theo so much was that whenever he was around he himself seemed to fade into the background of John’s world. He was the one who was there day in, day out, went on the fishing trips, taught his son all about the trees and the birds and the animals of the forest, but then Theo would turn up with stories of big game and birds of paradise and John would be lost to him for weeks, his nose stuck in books, his thoughts filled with far off places. Out of nowhere, those famous words, ‘If you love someone, let them go’ came back to him and his eyes prickled with tears, he supposed that’s what he’d never done.

 

He was interrupted in his thoughts by the clinking of crockery as John lay the tray down on the carpet, he lifted his head but before he had chance to say anything he was taken up in a huge hug, one that he returned eagerly and gratefully. The tears overflowed as he held his son to him, their heights almost matched to the centimetre. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing his life would be a cold place without his boy in it.

 

“I know,” John’s voice was rough to his ears. “But God, dad, I hope you haven’t hurt him…”

 

Malcolm pulled back. “I don’t think I could,” he said quietly. “That boy’s got some backbone.”

 

John nodded. “He has. But he’s also got a very soft inside… he’s had some hard times, you know.”

 

Malcolm squeezed his son’s shoulders, the image of Templeton sitting up in the bed burnt into his retinas. “Those scars…” he whispered, “What happened?”

 

He saw the closing down in John’s face, knew then that his guess had been correct.

 

“He got those on a _mission_?” he was appalled, the boy was hardly older than Gabi.

 

“You know I can’t say, dad,” John’s tone was tense.

 

But the omission of information was enough of a confirmation to Malcolm. “Hard times indeed. Poor kid…”

 

John squeezed his father once more and stepped back, turning to pick up the tray, “And he doesn’t need any more. You be on your best behaviour around him, you got that? I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’s packed everything up when I get back in there.”

 

Mal wiped his tears off cheeks flushed with shame. “Seemed to think I was going to throw him out…”

 

John flicked a quick glance at his father then shook his head, hurrying back along the corridor. Mal watched him go and wondered if he’d done enough to make a difference.

 

__________________________  

 

Hannibal cautiously opened the bedroom door, unsure what he would find. In a worst case scenario, Face would be out of the window already, but more realistically, Hannibal expected to find him at least packing up…

 

He was pleasantly surprised at first to find him still in bed, that was until he saw the look on his face. “Hey, sweetheart,” the tray was carefully set down on the bedside table, “what’s been going on?”

 

Face turned to him, his expression tragic. “Shit, boss,” he breathed, “I’m sorry…”

 

That had not been the response Hannibal was expecting and he slowly crawled over the duvet until he could sprawl out at Face’s side. “Whatever for?” He pulled his boy close, close enough to feel the sigh that ripped out of his chest.

 

“I’ve really screwed it with your dad. If you want me to leave, I will. I’m sorry boss; I don’t know what came over me.”

 

Hannibal pulled back, his heart thumping in anger and worry, and framed Face’s anxious face with his large hands. “Tell me what happened.” He forced his words out as calmly as he could. Face closed his eyes and Hannibal was appalled to see the threat of tears standing out on his lashes, making them spike; it was Christmas day for crying out loud! He’d promised himself he’d give Face his very best Christmas ever – what the hell had gone so wrong? “Face, please, just tell me,” he was appalled at the catch he heard in his own voice.

 

There was a moment of quiet as Face composed himself, then his eyes opened and he fixed Hannibal with a solemn stare. “Your father came in to see me, to say hello.” Hannibal managed to bite back on his ironic ‘humph’. “He also wanted to thank me, you know, for that business with Gabi?” They looked at each other, Hannibal silent as he waited for Face to continue. “And…” his eyes flicked down to the duvet. “I should have just let him; I should have just thanked him back and let him go on his way...”

 

There was a pause. “What did you do?”

 

Face’s eyes flicked up again, the anguish clear to see. “I told him what I thought, ran my mouth off like you’re always, _always_ , telling me not to,” he shook his head. “I told him I thought he was stupid if he let this come between you both, boss, and he just walked out… I’m sorry. Shall I leave now?”

 

For a second, there was nothing, just two still bodies in the bed, blue eyes locked onto blue and then Hannibal exploded. Roaring in laughter he pulled Face to him, crushing him to his chest, a hand in his hair as he laughed and laughed. “Oh, my God,” he wheezed, “I would have _loved_ to see that! Bet he couldn’t believe his ears! No wonder he was so meek and agreeable out there!”

 

Face was trying to pull away but Hannibal held him firm, kissing his head now in-between chuckles, warm hands smoothing over his back. “I love you, you know that, right? I love everything about you; especially the way you don’t let the old stiff intimidate you!” The jovial mood slipped away at that, replaced by something much deeper, and Hannibal’s voice slipped down a timbre as well. He let Face pull back, but just far enough that they were looking straight into each other’s eyes, sharing the same air. “I love you,” he repeated. “And you will never have to leave. If you wanted to go, we’d go together. You get that? You’re what I want, kid. In my house, in my life, in my heart – in my bed. Always.”

 

The moment stretched on. Face stared, his eyes wide as he tried to process what he was being told. But then he surged in; Hannibal knew that he didn’t have the words to express how he was feeling, that he was using his body instead and that was just fine by him – for now. He flipped onto his back, taking Face with him, until he was spread out on top, the duvet between them, Face’s naked body prickling in gooseflesh in the morning chill. Hannibal was never going to allow that so he flipped them again, kissing and kissing and kissing even as he struggled out of his clothes and back into the warm nest of the bed.

 

“I love you,” he whispered as he peppered kisses up and down Face’s neck. “It’s Christmas morning and we’re going to make love and it’s going to be glorious.”

 

“We can’t!” Face’s protests sounded true enough, but the way that he was clinging to Hannibal, with hands rubbing up and down that broad back belied his true feelings. “Not in your _parents’_ house.”

 

“Forget them,” Hannibal bent and found a nipple, loving the way that Face arched up into him, hands holding his head in place. “Let me show you how much I love you.” A warm hand reached his balls then, stroking and cupping them, squeezing slightly, even as Hannibal’s thumb drifted backward, finding that patch of smooth skin he loved to stroke.

 

“They’ll hear…” Face’s complaints were nothing short of piteous but Hannibal’s opinions were very different.

 

“They won’t,” he whispered, blowing softly on a pebbled nipple. “They’re all downstairs, no one else is even sleeping in this part of the house.”

 

Face moaned, and feebly tried to push Hannibal’s mouth off him, but actually ended up pulling him closer in. “What’s… down… below…”

 

Hannibal chuckled but resisted making a lewd comment in reply to that, instead just whispering, “The dining room. No one is there; they’re all in the lounge and kitchen.” Face blew out a long breath and Hannibal moved to the other nipple, sensing a turn in the tide. “Trust me, baby. No one will hear. Let me love you.”

 

As soon as Hannibal let his teeth gently scrape across the budded flesh, Face was convinced. All protests vanished as he rose up onto his knees, spinning around and throwing his leg over Hannibal’s chest, kneeling up, his ass all Hannibal could see of him. “Get me ready,” he breathed. “I’ll do the same for you.”

 

Before Hannibal even had the time to reply, Face ducked his head, taking as much of that already hard cock into his mouth, enveloping Hannibal in a moist heat so delicious he almost yelled out loud. Instead he just hauled himself upright, stomach muscles straining as he opened Face’s buttocks with his hands and leaned in, licking a flat tongue up that inviting crease, letting the tip dip into the tight rose bud, swirling and flicking as he felt Face whining around his cock. This was one of the things he loved most about his boy, this incredible, mercurial temperament. 

 

The heady scent of arousal was all around him. He could see Face’s cock, heavy and red, hanging down between the kid’s legs, a silvery trail of pre-come dripping from its end. He couldn’t resist reaching out to squeeze it, even as he pushed one saliva-wet finger in alongside his tongue and Face shoved back into him, lifting his head from the cock in his mouth, whispering a surge of obscene promises and pleas.

 

Hannibal knew they weren’t going to last long like this. Face’s mouth might have gone, still imploring Hannibal’s finger to touch him there, right there, oh yes, just like that, but his fingers had replaced it, pumping Hannibal’s cock with a rhythm that was guaranteed to have him spurting within the minute. He quickly swapped one finger and his tongue for three fingers, opening Face up as quickly as possible, making his boy take a huge mouthful of cock once more just to stop him from crying out. He closed his eyes, let Face’s cock fall from his hands and lay back on the bed, preparing Face from touch alone, terrified he would come before he’d even got inside.

 

“I’m ready,” Face breathed suddenly around his cock. “Do it, boss, I’m ready.”

 

Hannibal was on the move in an instant, grabbing Face’s thigh and flipping him roughly onto his back. Then he lifted those long legs, bending him in half until his feet were pressed into the duvet over the top of his head. “I need deep,” he whispered in explanation, but Face didn’t answer, Hannibal could see him desperately fisting himself even as his saliva-wet hole twitched in invitation. Hannibal couldn’t wait a moment longer. Between their last mission and Face’s week in LA, it had been almost a month since he’d been in his boy and he knew he was very, very close to coming from the anticipation alone. Struggling to his feet, he squatted down at the curve of Face’s ass, and took hold of his cock, bending it downwards, pressing it against that welcoming opening.

 

Face whined deep in the back of his throat and the hand Hannibal could see on that cock sped up dramatically. “Hold it,” Hannibal breathed, watching wide eyed as his cock started to press in. “Wait until I’m inside you.”

 

Instantly the hand slowed again, the whispered, “Yes, sir,” making Hannibal’s desperate cock twitch.

 

“Oh, baby,” he breathed. The flared head of his cock was pressed up against the puckered hole now and Hannibal held it there, making them both wait and then he sank down, one smooth movement impaling Face on his cock until his balls were pressed up against tight buttocks. “Jesus Christ!” he hissed, even as Face was making desperate sounds around the fist he’d shoved into his mouth.

 

“Not gonna last…” Hannibal breathed. “Too fucking good. C’mere, kid.”

 

Bouncing up and down, pistoning his cock in and out of Face’s grasping hole, Hannibal leaned forward a little and grabbed hold of Face’s own cock, his fingers interlacing with the other man’s. “That’s it,” he breathed, “Oh, baby, that’s it. So deep inside you, always so deep…”

 

All power of speech vanished then. The only sound that could be heard was the squeaking of the bed, and the muffled grunts from the two men who were edging closer and closer to orgasm. Hannibal went first, dropping Face’s cock and grabbing his hips instead, ramming himself repeatedly home as he gasped through his orgasm. He slowed then, wringing the final bursts of pleasure from his cock by drawing out slowly and pushing back in again, pulling out and watching the come follow him, before smearing it on the end of his cock and pushing back in. “My boy…” he whispered.

 

Once his high had ebbed he look down and Face was watching him, arousal still flooding his eyes, his hand still working his cock. Hannibal smiled at him and leaned forward, licking into that hole once more, letting his tongue trace all the come then lifting up and lowering his legs, lying down in the space between them, kissing Face, inviting his tongue inside to taste all that _essence_ of them both.

 

While they kissed, he took Face’s cock in his hand once more, and holding the kid’s legs open with a heavy thigh, started to quickly jack him off. Face didn’t last long. In moments he was gasping into Hannibal’s mouth and bucking up off the bed and Hannibal felt the warm spurts against his hand that told him his boy was done.

 

Slowly he brought Face down, licking through his mouth, then a tender nipple, before finally laving his softening cock clean, making it shine in the lights from the tree. Finally he was done, and as Face watched him through lidded eyes he turned them around and pulled the duvet over them, gathering Face up in his arms as their hearts slowly settled.   

 

Time ticked on, Hannibal wondered if they had time for a nap and then: “So, are we going to do presents now?” Face asked into the silence and Hannibal laughed.

 

“I think I’ve just had mine.”

 

“I’ve got you something though.”

 

Hannibal reached up and stroked his face, “And I’ve got you something too. You want to do it right now?”

 

Face nodded eagerly and instantly slipped from the bed, padding naked across the room and into the en-suite. For a moment Hannibal was confused, thinking that that’s where the kid had stashed his gift, but then he heard the unmistakable toilet sounds and realised Face was just freshening up. He was out again in a moment, naked and totally unconcerned by the fact. “Here,” Hannibal’s hand flew out of the duvet in time to catch the toilet roll headed his way. “I was looking for a wash cloth, but that’s all there was.”

 

Hannibal rolled off a handful and slipped it under the duvet, grimacing slightly as he wiped himself dry before throwing the used paper onto the carpet and snagging the gift wrapped box off the bedside table. Face had already retrieved his own gift, a longer, thinner, box and was crawling back into their cosy nest, the look on his face making Hannibal wonder if they would ever get to leave this room all day.

 

“Who’s going to go first?” he breathed and Hannibal almost groaned at the images that produced in his head.

 

“Whatever you want,” he answered instead, this day was about Face and _whatever_ the kid wanted to do was fine by him.   

 

Face, however, frowned which wasn’t supposed to be on the day’s agenda at all. “Are we doing this right?” he asked.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, shouldn’t we have stuffed the gifts into a sock at the end of the bed, or something? I’m not sure on proper etiquette here…”

 

“A sock?? You mean a stocking… and to be honest there are things I’d like to see in stockings a whole lot more than your gift…” his voice had dropped again and the suggestive waggling of his eyebrows dispelled Face’s frown.

 

He shoved Hannibal off him. “Pack it in, boss,” he moaned, but the humour was clear in his voice. “I’m serious. I want to do this right!”

 

“However we want to do it is right, kid, okay? Unless you want me to find you a Santa suit? After all, you were the one on the roof last night after all…”

 

Face laughed and pushed his gift Hannibal’s way. “Okay, forget it. And if I you ever dress me up as Santa, you’ll have to be my elf. So think on that.”

 

Hannibal’s laughter was warm and deep, “I didn’t realise you were that kinky, Templeton,” he teased, delighted when Face actually blushed.

 

“Here,” the package was placed into his hands, “Happy Christmas, John.”

 

Hannibal had to stop for a moment and swallow around the lump in his throat at the earnest edge to Face’s voice. He picked up the package with a gruff, “Thanks,” and turned it in his fingers, feeling how light it was, genuinely intrigued as to what it could be. He lifted the tag and felt his eyes burn with tears as there, in black and white, were the words, committed to paper for the very first time, ‘Merry Christmas, Hannibal. I love you. Face x’

 

For a second he couldn’t move. The desire to turn on his side scoop his boy up and make love to him all over again was almost burning but Face’s gentle nudge and a cautious, “Are you going to open it?” helped him rein himself back under control.

 

He took his time, carefully sliding a finger in under the folded edges, peeling the red paper back to reveal a plain white cardboard box underneath. Face was watching him carefully, a look of endearingly nervous anticipation on his face. Hannibal opened one end and tipped the box up, letting the contents slide out onto his hand. For a moment he couldn’t work out what he was seeing, the stainless steel cylinder was completely void of any marks at all that might have helped him, but then he saw that it was in fact, made up of two halves, noted the tiny hinges and with the utmost care, flipped the container open. He paused for a moment as the smell of finest tobacco greeted him from the two cigars nestled side by side in their container and then Face was talking.

 

“The guy in the shop said it’s really light but really strong. Even bullet proof he reckons. And watertight, as long as it’s sealed properly. It’ll keep them fresh as well, no more soggy and broken post-mission smokes I thought,” he paused at Hannibal’s silence. “What do you think?”

 

Hannibal turned to him. “I love it,” he breathed. “It’s perfect, and I love it. Just like you.” Face flushed at Hannibal’s unusually sappy speech and the boss refrained from telling him he loved the tag just as much – if not more. “I love it,” he repeated instead, leaning over to press a kiss on Face’s lips in gratitude. “Thank you so much.”

 

Again, Face flushed. “It’s fine.”

 

Smiling, Hannibal let it go, unwilling to make him more uncomfortable, and instead passed his own gift over with a whispered, “Happy Christmas, sweetheart.”

 

Face offered his own smile, and set about opening his gift with an enthusiasm that lit Hannibal’s heart up. The striped wrapping soon vanished, followed quickly by a fumbled opening of the brown cardboard box and then there was silence as Face stared at what was now in his hands. Hannibal let the silence last, unwilling to push Face until he was ready to speak but it stretched on, and on, and Face hadn’t even moved and finally Hannibal could stand it no more. “Kid? I-”

 

He got no further than that before Face launched himself on top of him, the clear plastic bubble still grasped tightly in his hand. “Oh, God, boss, I love it! I can’t believe it’s mine, I’ve always wanted one like this!”

 

Struggling with an armful of frantic, wriggling Face, Hannibal couldn’t help but grin. He knew the kid had wanted one, had seen the envious looks he’d been throwing at Jonno when he got his own Suunto watch sent from his parents for his birthday in the summer. “You’re welcome,” it was hard to talk with Face crushing his lungs like he was, so he rolled them both over to the side, taking the plastic case and cracking it open. “It’s got a barometer, measures altitude and speed, it’s waterproof to 300m, has a compass, it’s robust…”

 

“It’s perfect.”

 

“And look,” Hannibal turned the watch over his heart pounding hard in his chest as he showed Face the back, the engraving he’d thought long and hard over before committing.

 

Face stilled, his fingers tracing the words almost reverently. “Thank you,” he breathed.

 

“I didn’t want it to get us into trouble, but I wanted you to know the truth, wanted you to remember, even if I wasn’t there…”

 

Still Face just stared, and Hannibal read the memorised words around his fingers, checking for the thousandth time that they said exactly what he’d wanted them to. ‘I will never leave you. I will always come for you. I love you.’ He hadn’t signed it, couldn’t think of anything that might not tip their hand should anyone else see it, but he hoped it would be enough for Face, hoped it would help get rid of that constant fear he had that Hannibal would tire of him.

 

“I love it,” the words were breathed out as Face flicked a look up from under his lashes and Hannibal’s heart skipped as he read their hidden meaning. He wanted nothing more at that point than to hold Face next to him and kiss him and sink back down into his silken heat and spend the whole day loving and reacquainting. But the happy shouting from downstairs told him that Caleb and Josie were up and that Santa had left them something in the lounge and instead of pulling Face to him and kissing him until he fell to pieces, he forced himself to wait and dropped a kiss onto his head.

 

“We’d better get up…” he whispered. “There are more presents under the tree.”

 

Face was instantly on the move. “I need to get mine under there as well,” he scuttled out of bed, buck naked and started pulling carefully wrapped gifts out of his case.

 

Hannibal laughed. “You might want to get some clothes on first,” he advised. “Maybe have a shower as well?”

 

Turning, Face threw him a smile and a wink over his shoulder. “Yeah? Well how about you come into the shower too, and I might let you lick my candy cane…”

 

Hannibal groaned at the awful innuendo, but Face had already gone, the sound of running water not quite drowning out his loud rendition of, ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’. He smiled and swung his legs out of bed, padding over to the en-suite himself wanting, despite everything, a taste of that candy cane and knowing that, finally, they were all set for a wonderful Christmas.

 

_______________________

 

Epilogue

 

“Here you go. But if mom asks where your glass is, don’t mention me.”

 

Face laughed as he took the beer bottle from Adam. “Thanks. And don’t worry – your secret’s safe with me.”

 

He settled down a little further into the cushions of the pit around the fire, pleasantly warm, despite the lateness of the evening and the freezing temperatures, thanks to his many layers of clothing, stripy thermal hat (his Christmas present from Josie and Caleb) and of course the heat coming from Malcolm’s carefully tended fire.

 

“You warm enough, Templeton?” That was Mal now, his manner never what you could call relaxed around Face, but he was trying; had been trying ever since their awkward conversation on Christmas morning and Face appreciated that.

 

“Toasty, thanks,” he answered, mildly wondering if it was anything to do the three glasses of warm red stuff he’d had so far this evening. Malcolm nodded and wandered off again, promising Caleb that he could watch while he set up the fireworks for later on. 

 

It was New Year’s Eve and they were still at the Smith family house. They hadn’t planned to stay so long, but they’d had such a lovely time that Hannibal had taken one look at Face’s hopeful expression when his mom had asked them to stay longer and instantly agreed. It had been a festive period unlike any that Face had ever experienced, and he had so many special memories that he would keep carefully and bring out when he was feeling a little down. Christmas dinner had been a loud and happy event, and he’d eaten so much he could barely move. The opening of the gifts had taken hours but had been wonderful and everyone had seemed really pleased with the things he’d bought them as well. His own gifts were varied and every one of them useful; he suspected that the family, well used to buying for Hannibal, had extended those same ideas on to him.

 

He’d struck up an easy friendship with Adam and Derrick, and got on well with the children, especially Daisy who still seemed to adore him. Theo had only stayed two nights, the truce that Malcolm had made with Face obviously hadn’t extended that far, but apparently he was expected in Sydney for New Year so needed to leave anyway. Face had liked him, they’d had a few good chats, and Theo had promised to catch up with them both the next time he had the chance. Barbara and Rose seemed to be in competition to see how they could look after Face the most and he had to admit to liking it, even if Hannibal found the attention nothing short of amusing.

 

They’d all been sledging a few times, up on the slopes around the house and, once Face got over his initial distaste for the cold, he’d loved it. They’d tried various shapes and sizes of sledge, but the very best fun had been the tractor inner-tubes that Adam had brought; the speeds that they’d reached on those things had been incredible.

 

His favourite thing by far however, had been spending every single night in Hannibal’s bed, wrapped up together after making love, the fire crackling away, frost patterns on the window and the lights from the tree sparkling in the corner. He loved Hannibal’s room, loved how it was big but still cosy, loved how many different options it offered for making love as well… They’d tried them all, really had the chance to experiment a little with their physical relationship which had been so good to do after all the rushed and secret sex they’d been forced into over the last year. Thinking back to some of the things they’d tried… Face could feel his cheeks heating a little – it had been the most incredible vacation.

 

But tomorrow they were headed back, a flight to Atlanta late on New Year’s Day and they’d be back in the swing of military life within hours. As much as Hannibal would be there right alongside him as always, Face couldn’t help but feel a little down about that; it wouldn’t be the same, how could it ever be the same when they couldn’t hold hands, when they couldn’t kiss or even just lean up against each other on the couch? How on earth would Face sleep when he had to go back to being on his own? Sleeping in his little bunk with the snores of the rest of the team filling his dreams? When Hannibal was right across the base from him? The equivalent of million miles… It would be hard.

 

Footsteps across the deck pulled him from his gloomy thoughts and he smiled as Gabi wandered over, flopping down on the sofa opposite him, offering up her own self-conscious smile. She’d been a little awkward around Face since their first, rather bizarre, meeting on the roof. He couldn’t decide if she was embarrassed by what she’d done or if she just had a crush on him… he suspected it was maybe a bit of both, but each day their relationship relaxed just a tad. 

 

“My mom just called,” she announced with an eye roll, “to say Happy New Year. I don’t think she has any idea what time zone I’m in…”

 

“It can be confusing…” Face offered but Gabi just shook her head. “Did she have a good Christmas?”

 

This time a gleam came into Gabi’s eyes and she flicked a meaningful look across at Face. “Apparently not. Seems Lover-boy had tonsillitis, not the best Christmas she’s ever had. I told her mine was awesome.”

 

Face laughed with her.

 

“Cookies!”  Josie’s trill voice sounded out across the deck as she approached carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies that were steaming in the cold night air. Face felt his mouth water at the sight and could only imagine how awful that first assault course would be back at Benning… He still took two though, three when Josie insisted, and lay back against the cushions, eating them before they went cold and watching Malcolm and Caleb setting out the midnight fireworks.

 

Before long, Josie and Gabi wandered off again and left him alone and he lay back, picking out the brightest stars whilst sipping his beer and marvelling at how very happy he felt, despite the end of his vacation being so close.

 

“Alright, beautiful?”

 

Long legs appeared in his vision as Hannibal hopped down into the pit, deliciously cold and flushed after helping Adam clear the driveway of the overnight snow. Face sat up, making room and Hannibal squashed in next to him, pulling him into a hug, his icy nose pushing into the little space between layers of fleece until it found some skin to nuzzle. Face pulled away from him, “God, boss, you’re freezing me, get off!”

 

Hannibal chuckled and Face shivered as the warm breath tickled his neck. “Freezing? How can you be freezing? How many layers do you have on?”

 

Shuffling into a more comfortable position Face looked away. “A few.”

 

“A few?” Hannibal laughed. “Okay then, how many layers of thermal underwear are you wearing?”

 

Face frowned a little. “It’s a cold night…”

 

“How many?”

 

“Right now?”

 

“Right now.”

 

He met Hannibal’s gaze. “Two,” and Hannibal raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Two? Is that two full sets?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“And an extra pair of long johns?”

 

“It’s a cold night!”

 

This time Hannibal laughed out loud and pulled Face to him. “Come here you thin blooded creature, I’ll keep you warm.” Face happily snuggled into him. “And then tonight,” this was whispered right into Face’s ear, “I’ll take my time taking them all off again…” Face shivered once more but this time it had nothing to do with the cold. 

 

They stayed like that until it was time for the countdown and the fireworks and then they traded good wishes and hugs and kisses with everyone else.

 

Finally it was time for bed and Hannibal did take his time slowly peeling away the layers of insulation until Face was begging him to rip them off and throw them away. Then, later still, they were curled up together in the big bed, the house finally in silence and both of them aware that twenty four hours would see a huge change in their circumstances.

 

“I’ve been thinking,” Hannibal said softly, his words ruffling Face’s hair, “about the future.”

 

Face stilled, wondering if his bubble of bliss was going to be popped after all. “What?” he asked around his suddenly dry throat.

 

“It’s going to be hard for me, for us, to be around each other all the time and not touch, not give ourselves away somehow.” Face’s heart was pounding hard against his ribs but he didn’t dare speak. He didn’t think it was the time to say that he was fairly sure Piper knew about them, and maybe Bunter too – all he could think about was that night in a hotel in LA after Iran when Hannibal said that Face should leave the army, leave Hannibal, just to make things better.

 

“So, I’ve given it some thought,” Hannibal was pushing on, seemingly oblivious to the fear that was building in Face with every word. “I’m going to start cutting back on the unit,” his eyes found Face’s in the dark. “Russ has been asking me to go small, make a specialist unit for quick entry and exit, under the radar, sensitive areas that kind of thing. What do you think?”

 

Face just shrugged, not sure how he fit into any of this yet.

 

“So, I wouldn’t throw anyone out. I’d need to wait for them to _want_ to move on, but that’s what I was thinking. Maybe by the end of the year, maybe a little longer, we could go down to a unit of just two.”

 

Face blinked at him. “Me and you?” and Hannibal frowned.

 

“Of course me and you. Who the hell else did you think I meant?”

 

For a moment there was silence and then Face answered the best way he knew how, pulling up onto his knees and kissing Hannibal with everything he had. 1993 was going to be a great year, he could just tell.


End file.
